


Flying Free

by SwaggerDownTheStreet



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Currently Taking Prompts, I Got Sad That All The Wingfics I Could Find Were Shipfics So I Wrote My Own, One-Shot/Two-Shot Collection, Peter is Self-Doubting, Precious Peter Parker, This DUMB, This is fun to write, Wing Related Racism, Wingfic, peter is a cinnamon roll, peter is a crow, uh, winged people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22747588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwaggerDownTheStreet/pseuds/SwaggerDownTheStreet
Summary: The one where Peter Parker, my precious child, is a crow and a cinnamon roll and of course people hate crows as demons because racism. He keeps the wings hidden but then wow okay they're starting a wing unit in Gym huh what to do.Might be a little confusing as to whether I'm speaking of birds or the kinds of wings people have, but it should be fine.-V45QU32-One-Shots, Two-Shots, and Three-Shots ~ Currently Taking Prompts (No Slash)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	1. Surprises in Gym Huzzah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ight yall this is my wingfic. I got sad cuz there was like five wingfics that weren't shipfics so I wrote my own. Comments and kudos fuel my resolve hint hint

There was a rhyme about crows. One for sorrow, it stated. How very true. Crows were omens of death and destruction and despair. Bad things followed the crows.

This couldn't actually be proven. Not solidly. Yet society continues to be a huge pile of bull crap. 

One for sorrow. Whether or not crows brought misery with them, this statement was as true as they come. Because people hate the crows. They buy into stereotypes of murdering psychopath crows, and they shun them. This makes for an incredibly sucky existence, so sorrow is a very accurate description, despite consisting of just one word.

Wings are a hereditary thing, like hair or eyes or skin. If there has been even one goose-winged person in your bloodline, then you have at least the slightest chance of being born a goose. The same is true for every other type of wing, eagles, hawks, vultures, parakeets, doves, pigeons. Crows.

Crow-winged people have been shunned since as long as anybody can remember. This led to mass suicides, which led to crows being almost extinct. Of course, every once in a while, another crow is born, and they are taught to hide.

Pretty much anyone can hide their wings, if the person is strong enough and if their wings aren't to big. There are certain conditions that make it impossible or at least incredibly difficult to hide ones wings, but they aren't too common.

Some people prefer the privacy of being able to hide, but some people never hide them, flaunting their feathers instead. Some people, like swifts, can't stand hiding their wings and begin to itch and ache before too long. Some people, like roadrunners, are perfectly comfortable with it.

Peter had the misfortune to be born a crow, a demonic abomination in the eyes of society. He had learned at a sadly young age that people who weren't family didn't like him or his wings. He got into the habit of hiding them constantly, but crows aren't meant to hide, and if he wasn't careful, they would be stiff as a pair of boards by the time he got home from school.

In sixth grade, when Peter learned in his social studies class that people's personalities almost always matched that of the bird that bore their wings, he had done a little research. Well, 'a little' was putting it mildly. He'd lost sleep looking up the characteristics of crows. They were social, like people. They were often misidentified with ravens. They were very smart and could learn to imitate humans like parrots could.

Nothing about crows - besides the fact that a group of them was called a murder - supported the idea that people with crows wings were omens of ill fortune. Peter had been able to use this information to at least slightly ward off any self-hatred, but he kept his wings hidden; people could be very good at baseless hatred.

Ned knew. May knew. That was it. The deep rooted fear of hatred and rejection kept Peter from revealing his wings to anyone else.

Then, in gym, Coach Wilson made an announcement that chiled Peter's blood.

"Alright, listen up!" He said as the class sat in the bleachers. "Today was great, you all worked hard, but tomorrow we're starting something new." At first, Peter was interested; gym could get kind of monotonous without the occasional change. Then, "We're starting our wings unit, because everyone's wings should be about at a growth-spurt stage and you'll need to keep them in shape." Peter felt Ned's sympathetic gaze on him, but Peter's mind was racing at a mile a minute as Wilson explained how they would be splitting into different groups based off their wing types.

Once, in fifth grade, they'd done a gym unit where they had to do workouts involving their wings. It had only been a week long, though, and Peter had gotten his hands on some feather dye. It had worn off a few weeks later.

Now, though, his wings were larger. May couldn't afford enough dye, plus the bleach he'd need since his feathers were black. Besides, when he dyed his entire wings, the feathers were stiff and uncomfortable.

The freshman unit would last a month. There was no way he could fake sick forever, he couldn't dye them, and he couldn't fake an injury, either, because an injury that would last a month would probably be one you had to keep your wings out for.

There was no getting out of this, was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen up, guys, I do NOT KNOW WHERE TO GO WITH THIS. If you liked it and want me to continue, please leave some sugestions or prompts or whatever, because I like writing this but I dunno what else to write about. Also, any ideas on how Peter could get out of this? Any ideas what might happen if he can't? TELL MEEEE


	2. Ha, Take That, You Sadists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And literally tWO WEEKS LATER--
> 
> I've been informed that this wasn't clear enough, SO-- Civil War, Spider-Man, and Infinity War/Endgame haven't happened. Tony will be there eventually because IRONDAD but not yet :(
> 
> Also, this fic will include more one-shots/two-shots/three-shots so leave prompts if you want ig
> 
> ANYway, I was fEELING HAppy so I DIDN'T write sadistism yet. Peter is a lucky boi, ehehehe

The next day came and Peter hadn't managed to find an excuse not to do the wing unit. May had advised him to just be casual about it, and if anyone said anything they would probably have to deal with the principal.

Peter really didn't like the "probably" and he still frantically tried to think of a way out while he was on patrol. He never thought of anything.

So here he was, seating in the bleachers in the gym uniform with the rest of his class. A lot of them already had their wings out. Some people, like Flash, never hid them anyway, unless absolutely necessary.

Eventually, Coach Wilson appeared and started explaining what they were going to do. Then came Peter's saving grace.

"Now," Wilson clapped his hands together. "Contrary to popular belief, I also used to be a teenager. I know people can be self-concious about their wings, especially around your age and _especially_ around your molting period."

 _Molting!_ Of course. That had never even occured to Peter; since he always kept his wings hidden anyway, his molts didn't affect his life much, aside from general discomfort. He'd never thought about what it might be like for most kids, who could flaunt their wings to their heart's desire.

Wilson continued. "Molting is, of course, perfectly natural and happens to everyone. It's uncomfortable and makes you feel like your wings are just plain ugly, as I'm sure you've been told in health or something. We've had lots of kids bullied in this unit because they're molting, and this year we decided to try a system to avoid that. If you're self-concious about your wings or would just rather not show them to your classmates, you can come with me to the other side of the gym. The rest of you know what to do."

Peter, along with several other kids whose faces wore varying degrees of relief, headed to the other side of the gym. Once they were all gathered around, Wilson said, "Since the lengths of molting periods vary for different people and different wing types, we have a form for you to fill out for each day your gone. You'll get an instruction sheet on what we did that day, and then you'll have your parent or guardian sign it to show you went through it together. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

"Perfect. If you have any questions about the procedures, you can always talk to me." He handed out the papers and the group of kids went back to the bleachers to look through them.

Having to do this every day for a month would probably cut into his Spider-Man time, but pretty much anything would be better then facing the judgement of his classmates....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was really short. You probably expected more from this. I have writers block for this fic, so any prompts...? I'll probably write it, but no slash.


End file.
